


Waded into the Stream

by PuppyWillGraham



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: /That/ scene, Guesses as to which one, I'm in so much pain why do I do this to myself, Murder Family, Other, Takes place during Mizumono, one of them dies, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyWillGraham/pseuds/PuppyWillGraham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A perception and take on Will's point of view during the gutting scene in the season two finale, Mizumono, with a little painful twist at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waded into the Stream

As soon as Will Graham had stepped into Dr. Hannibal Lecter's house after seeing to Dr. Alana Bloom, who was lying on the cold, hard ground, and calling an ambulance, it was as if he'd signed his own death warrant.

He'd honestly been shocked when seeing Abigail Hobbs alive once more, along with a distant feeling of betrayal flowing through him; how long had Hannibal been planning on keeping her locked up here, still  _acting_ as if she was dead,  _pretending_ to mourn her death along with the empath?

Freezing almost instantly when he turned and faced the good doctor, the gun in his hands already lowering, as if he was acting pliant; really, he was only acting this way to save his own skin now. He'd been acting ever since he'd been released from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and it had become easier with each day that passed, to try and pull the wool over Hannibal's eyes.

"I thought I'd told you to  _leave_..." Will had intoned, a variety of emotions enough to very well suffocate him attacking him all at once; from his own end, Hannibal's, and now Abigail's again, too.

He can't even  _think_ of what happens next. It happens too fast for him to register, for him to  _protect_ himself, and in some way, he  _accepts_ the fate he's being dealt.

The touch of a gentle hand to his face, as if it's a caress. It's lulling him into a false sense of security, and it goes on for longer than he knows it actually occurs.

Then the sharp and  _painful_ pierce of a knife --a linoleum knife, he recognises; and really, what does it even  _matter_ what knife the other man is using?-- that attacks his lower abdomen in such a fashion that is anything but neat.

He gasps sharply, choking down on a soft mewl, before grabbing ahold of something,  _anything_ , and it's so ironic that it happens to be Hannibal that he's grabbing ahold of to keep himself upright in a situation such as this. The other man had always been the one for Will to grab ahold of --metaphorically, of course-- to gain himself a sense of stability, and even when Hannibal had  _caused_ this, he was still grasping at him.

Hannibal holds him. It feels so bittersweet. In the distance, he can hear a whimper from Abigail, or maybe it's from himself, he doesn't rightly know.

The next thing he knows, he's on the floor. He's been gutted, and he accepts it. He could die. He felt he deserved it on some level. He'd been just as bad as Hannibal in the little game of Cat-and-Mouse they'd both unwillingly --some more than others-- been playing.

And then Abigail is in Hannibal's hold, him crooning by her ear, and it's such a stark parallel to the girl being held by her biological father that the breath is knocked out of Will once more, blood pouring out of the wounds he'd been dealt with. He knows what's coming. He just  _knows_ , and that hurts more than being gutted and left to bleed out himself.

Their little makeshift family was being ripped apart, one member at a time.

He doesn't want to look. He  _hates_ to look. But it's all been leading up to this, it seems. A distant echo of " _See_ _?_ " rings in Will's ears, and a cry tears from his throat as Hannibal slashes the knife across Abigail's throat. Crimson flows, and Hannibal drops her to the floor.

She's expendable, Will realizes in a bitter moment of clarity.

Abigail was a surprise. Hannibal thought he was doing something  _nice_ for him. He wasn't joking when he'd asked Will to run away with him, knowing that the glass timer was running out of sand. With Will's betrayal, Hannibal has decided to tear it all to shreds in the most effective way he can think of. He can give as well as he can take away, and the latter hurts  _so much_.

Will can't decipher which pain is emotional, and which is physical. It all intermingles, and he shifts towards Abigail once Hannibal has left them both for dead; cutting his ties and losses in the most efficient and  _literal_ way.

He places the hand he'd been holding over his disembowlment over the girl's throat once more, trying to stem the bleeding. But it's too late. He already knows it, and he rests his head against the body that young life was filtering away from. He knows she's gone. He knows that Abigail is dead, and he'd been partial to killing her.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read my angst :^) comments, bookmarks and kudos equals love.


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